


A Broken Promise

by Isabe



Category: Alias Grace (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, POV Mary, Supernatural Elements, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:23:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isabe/pseuds/Isabe
Summary: Jeremiah once told me that broken promises encourages spirits to cause harm in the earthly realm.





	A Broken Promise

I don’t understand how George could do this to me, he said he loved me. He said he was going to marry me. He gave me a ring. A promise. It hurt so badly.

The sun shone yellow through the curtains. The wooden floor that I could never get quite as clean as Mistress Parkinson wished looked golden in it. My dear Grace was sleeping on the floor, so I could be comfortable on the bed.  I wished that she was up here with me. The pain from the doctor’s incision hurt like fire, and Grace was soft and pleasant to hold.

I was supposed to go somewhere.

I stood up. Shakily. My night dress was red when it should’ve been a beautiful pure white. I couldn’t breathe. The air in our bedroom was stiff with should have beens and were nots. When I tried to lift open a window I found that I could not do it. My arms were too weak. The door wouldn’t budge neither. Trapped in a room that had no air.

Grace was still here though. Laying on the floor beside our bed. She is so selfless and devoted. I was caught up lies. Making her lie to Mistress Parkinson for me, telling her that I was sick. The lies that George fed me. That I ate up. He said he was going to marry me. I trusted him. I thought I loved him. I was spun round and round with lies. It feels like they are threaded throughout my entire being.

I felt so weak, I thought of her again, my dear Grace. I lay down next to her and fell asleep. I ached with my need for comfort.

 

I woke up and Grace wasn’t there. I was on our bed. Alone. My incision no longer tore at me. The other maids were by my side. At the time, I could not understand where my Grace was. We always woke together. Was she in trouble for lying to old missus Parkinson for me?

The girls were trying to tell me that _I_ was Grace. They made no sense. I am me, and Grace is Grace. This upset me greatly, and I shouted for her. They did not understand that I needed Grace. I continued thusly for her until I passed out. 

 

I think the other girls in the house were right. I am Grace. I have been waking in the most peculiar of places, ones that I don't remember ever falling asleep in. This body, the one that I hold dear, is not one that I can rightly call my own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this!  
> This is my first time posting on to AO3, I hope it didn't show too much. I haven't read the novel yet, but the TV show was riveting. I watched it as fast as I could, and then I read all the fic I could find on here for it!


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